


The Glue

by realisticromanticbuthopelesslysingle



Category: Shameless (US)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 11:12:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2022969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realisticromanticbuthopelesslysingle/pseuds/realisticromanticbuthopelesslysingle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Ian deals with his disorder and sees a nightmare about it and Mickey comforts him</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Glue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emms/gifts).



> This is a prompt request so I hope I did it justice
> 
> Also, it takes place somewhere in the year following the last episode so Ian has turned 18

Mickey was pacing around the living room trying his best not to worry but checking the time every 3 minutes despite himself.  He hated group therapy day, it always made Ian come home quiet and a little less like his normal self.  Of course it was necessary, the doctor had assured them Ian needed either group therapy led by a licensed professional or one-on-one sessions with a psychiatrist.  Since Ian had said absolutely no way to the psychiatrist, _Gallaghers don't do therapy_ , group therapy was the only option.  Mickey at first went with him but the group leader had quickly vetoed that option, apparently nobody felt free to express their feelings when someone who didn't have bipolar disorder was in the room.  So Mickey was left waiting, Tuesday and Thursday every other week from 6-8 found him pacing the living room and smoking more cigarettes than the Marlboro man.

Tonight he was especially worried because it was coming on ten o'clock and Ian still wasn't home.  He looked back at the text message Ian had sent during what would have been the middle of the session:

**From: Tough Guy  7:10**

_i'm sorry Mick, i want you to know i'm really sorry for everything_

**From: My Mickey  7:12**

_Gallagher is everything ok, you still in group?_

**From Tough Guy 7:25**

_yeah it's fine, gonna take a walk after group, need some fresh air.  please don't worry Mick just need to think_

**From My Mickey 7:27**

_fuck that Gallagher, of course i'm gonna worry, just don't take too long...i don't miss you or anything you know_

**From Tough Guy 7:43**

_i won't be long...miss you too Mick_

 

Mickey sighed and rubbed his face as he sat down on the couch something was definitely bothering Ian; fucking group therapy, fucking bipolar, fucking southside.

**11:10 pm**

Mickey didn't know when he had fallen asleep but the sound of footsteps on the porch startled him awake, glancing at the time on his phone did nothing but piss him off.  Ian had barely made it in the door when Mickey began laying into him, "Gallagher what the fuck!" he whispered shouted so he wouldn't wake Svetlana, Yevgeny, or Mandy.  "You promised that you wou..." one look at Ian's face immediately stole the words from Mickey's lips.

"Sorry Mick, I didn't realize how late it was. I fucked up."

"Ian what's wrong, what happened?"  Mickey could barely talk looking at the puffiness around Ian's eyes.  Looking at his face Mickey realized Ian hadn't just been crying, uncontrollable sobbing seemed more accurate and the marks on his face suggested Ian had been squeezing the sides of his face hard enough to scratch and bruise himself.  Mickey walked to him and gently used his chin to make their eyes meet.

"Ian?"

"I'm okay Mick, I promise, just a bad night at group."

"Okay, but you can talk to me you know."

"I know...can we just go to bed please?  We can talk tomorrow, I'm just really tired Mick."

"OK, c'mon tough guy let's go."

Mickey squeezed Ian's hand gently and guided him to their bedroom.  Ian was strangely quiet so Mickey followed his lead and they both undressed and climbed into bed without a word.  Ian locked eyes with him and Mickey could barely hold back his own tears when he saw the sadness on Ian's face.  He opened his arms and Ian crawled into them, clutching at Mickey as tears soaked his chest.  Mickey silently rubbed his back and peppered his head with kisses until they both fell asleep.

**2:10 am**

"Gallagher you ok?"  

Mickey was awakened by heavy breathing sobs from the beautiful redheaded boy next to him.  Initially he thought Ian had woken up and was sad again but quickly surmised that Ian was in the middle of a terrible nightmare.  Mickey felt his heart being ripped apart by the pain and anguish showing in Ian's face.  That alone hurt, but the wrecked and defeated noises that were emitting from his mouth were enough to make Mickey's skin crawl.

"Gallagher?"  "Ian! Shit Ian!"

Ian's eyes popped open immediately and looked around searching for where he was and whose voice he heard.  As soon as his eyes connected with Mickey he sat up and started grabbing at his wrists crying and pleading with Mickey.

"I need bandages Mickey please please I need to make it stop!  I didn't mean it Mick I didn't meant it, I promise.  Don't hate me, please don't hate me.  Oh shit the kids, don't let them see Mickey please don't let them see.  Tell Debbie to take Liam and Carl upstairs please.  Fiona, Lip I'm sorry I didn't mean it.  Mick, I love you I'm so sorry please don't hate me!"

Mickey simply stared in confusion for a moment as Ian kept grabbing at his wrists while speaking rapidly and darting his eyes up at Mickey.  It took only a few seconds until Mickey realized what Ian had dreamt about.

"Ian, look at me Ian." Mickey calmly placed his hand on top of Ian's to stop him from squeezing his wrists, "It was a dream Ian, you're ok man you didn't do anything.  Look, your wrists are ok, you're ok."

Mickey watched as reality slowly creeped back into Ian and his breathing started to slow down.  The boys sat in silence for a few minutes as Ian held onto Mickey's hand and Mickey rubbed Ian's back, giving him a chance to start talking whenever he was ready.

"Fuck Mick, I don't know what happened."

"You had a nightmare Ian, a pretty bad one."

"Yeah, fuck!"

"Talk...not a question either Ian, talk to me."

Ian began talking with tears immediately dropping from his eyes, "I hate going to group Mick.  I fucking hate knowing what I'm going to become.  Monica was just the tip of the iceberg.  There are people in there who have tried committing suicide so many times they've lost count.  People whose families have completely given up because they can't take it anymore.  People who've hurt the people they are supposed to love."

Mickey listens quietly as Ian speaks, his only movement being the light squeezing of Ian's hand to encourage him to continue speaking.

"Mick these people have been arrested so many times for violent outbursts or put in institutions when they were depressed for too long.  They can't keep a job because of everything, all the ups and downs.   Addicts Mickey, they self-medicate like Monica hoping it would help.  But the scars are the worst, the scars on their wrists and neck showing that they reached their breaking point Mick.  Those marks are a constant visual reminder to everyone that this person is fucked, that at some point life wasn't worth it anymore."

Ian paused and looked Mickey directly in the eyes, "That was the nightmare, I had slit my wrists when I was home alone.  Only I wasn't completely dead and you guys rushed me to the hospital.  I just watched in the hospital room as everyone came in and cried and sobbed.  Everyone was so sad but still I think they were kind of relieved too, no more pills to help pay for, no more depressive days in bed, no more searching for manic Ian...no more Ian.  Not you though Mick.  You were just quietly standing in the corner until everyone left.  Then you walked up and kissed me.  Then you squeezed my hand and whispered "we'll get your medication fixed Ian, I love you don't worry," then you just sat down next to me and rubbed your face."

Mickey was speechless and only moved to wipe the tears coming from his eyes first and then reaching to wipe Ian's tears away as he continued.  "I can't do that to you Mick, how can I force somebody I love so much to live a life where he is always just expecting the worst.  How can I ask you to live a life where me slitting my wrists is normal operating procedure for you.  It's like i'm jumping into this pit of darkness and despair but first I'm tying a rope around my waist so I can pull you with me.  Mickey I just can't.."

Ian covered his mouth to muffle the sobs, "I'm 18 and every time I go to group it's like looking in a crystal ball and seeing my future."  Ian let out a sigh and stared down at his hands.

Mickey welcomed the momentary silence so he could gather his thoughts before he began speaking.  "Okay Ian, shit man that's a lot of shit to carry around with you, no wonder you were so upset when you came home."  Mickey sighed and dove in, ready to help Ian wade through his despair.  "First the nightmare." Ian immediately looks up at Mickey.

"Ian, that dream sucked..for sure.  But Ian, look at your wrists, you didn't do anything.  Your family won't be relieved if you die, they would be fucking devastated.  You always wonder about your role in your family.  Yeah Fiona is in charge and the savior who took on the responsibility, and Lip is brilliant and is the support so the family backbone doesn't break.  Debbie is diabolically sweet, Carl is psychotically curious, and Liam is the innocent black one.  But you are the glue, you hold all of them together so they can play their part and the sickening love that you guys talk about can flow."

Mickey took Ian's face in his hands, "You're the glue babe, sometimes it sucks to be glue because you're in the cracks and people don't always notice you.  They don't always recognize how you hold things together.  And yeah, when you're the glue the bad stuff tends to stick to you a little more often, but that just means the good stuff does too.  Like being bi-polar.  It's fucked I agree and it's definitely one of the bad things, but this between me and you, it's one of the fucking great things.  I'm so fucking happy that you're the glue Ian.  I wouldn't have stuck to anybody else in this world, I would have been all alone if it wasn't for you.  You're not forcing me or asking me to live any kind of life Ian.  I am jumping into this life with you, eyes open fully aware of what's ahead of us.  If your jumping into a pit I'm the one tying a rope so I can follow you in.  I'm following because the only way we make it through this is together.  This, me and you, is forever.  Loving you is my normal operating procedure.

Both boys were crying as Ian leaned into Mickey and softly kissed his lips "If it means you sticking to me then I am so fucking glad that I am the glue."

The boys continued kissing and Mickey didn't protest when Ian carefully laid him back and began making love to him slowly and sweetly.

**4:07 am**

The boys lay in silence, wrapped in each others arms.  They were physically spent from their lovemaking and emotionally spent from the nightmare that had stolen a restful sleep from both boys.  

Mickey was the first to break the silence, "Ian, I want to talk about group."

He felt Ian tense slightly before responding, "yeah, I know."

"Those things you told me, those people, are they on their meds and following the doctor's orders?"

"Some of them, most of them say they've tried the doctor's way but it left them feeling nothing at all."

"So these things that happened, the violence and drugs, the family members walking away, these were probably times when they were off their meds huh?"

"Yeah, I mean I guess since they are all functioning now and group requires you to be on meds.  So yeah."

"Ian, those scars, on the wrists and necks of those people, they aren't reminders of how fucked they are or that they gave up."  Mickey pulled back so that he and Ian were looking into each other's eyes.  "I don't ever, fucking ever, want to see those scars on you.  But life's hard, and sometimes people have brains that fuck with them.  Next time you see those scars, see it as a visual reminder that those people are still trying, they didn't keep giving up."

Ian nodded "I won't give up Mick."

Mickey smiled slightly, "What about the other people in group?  Are there any people who have different stories?"

Ian leaned up on his elbow, now looking down at Mickey, "Yeah sure, I mean there's this guy that's a lawyer who said he was diagnosed in law school.  Once they got his meds right he re-enrolled and finished his degree.  He works for the D.A.'s office."

"Yeah not bad, fucker probably sentenced Terry once or twice, I like him already.  Who else?"

"Well, there's a teacher that I like and some kid my age who's leaving soon on a football scholarship.  Not at all like the idiot southside jocks, he's actually kind of nice but a little dumb...reminds me of Kev."

Mickey laughed, "I'll be sure to tell the useless seven-footer you said that."

Ian smiled, "Oh and there's a girl that reminds me of Fiona, she's got 3 kids and always stayed stable but kind of went deep depressive when her firefighter husband was killed. She said once they got her to the hospital she promised her kids they wouldn't lose her too.  That was like 4 years ago and she hasn't had any really bad extremes since.  She said she keeps coming to group to make sure she stays focused and even."

Mickey looked at Ian and smiled, "Well there you go Gallagher.  Yeah, all the shit those other people have gone through is pretty bad, and I know while you were away you went through some of that.  But that was before you were diagnosed.  Now we know what's happening in your head.  Those people are like Monica, they will always struggle with the hard stuff because they want it to be easy.  Not you, you're like the lawyer, and the teacher, and the jock, and the mom.  You know it's gonna be hard, you know it's a struggle because you lived it.  Fuck man, you lived it as a spectator and as part of the team.  Both times you hated doing it the Monica way so now you're gonna do it the Firecrotch way. Fuck the army man, you're a soldier everyday fighting fucking bi-polar disease."

Ian laid back down and snuggled close to Mickey, "Yeah?"

"Yeah...fuck yeah Ian.  You promise to always keep trying and I promise to always be here to help you.  I fucking love you man.  You used to ask me when I was going to start believing you when you said I wasn't Terry just because he was my dad.  Well you are not Monica just because she is your mom."

"I love you Mickey Milkovich, so fucking much."  A momentary silence settled between the boys as both their eyelids began to close before Ian spoke again in a sleepy voice, "I'm trying to remember that Mick and I promise I will keep trying."  

Mickey squeezed him and yawned,"good thing Gallagher cuz I need you around."

A few hours later Mandy told Svetlana she would be babysitting Yev today.  She couldn't be sure, but something about the way the boys had been clinging to each other when she looked in the room that morning told her it had been a rough night.  Knowing them as well as she did she figured each boy could use some restful sleep wrapped in the arms of the one he loves.


End file.
